She's Got a Dream
by sweetie buttons
Summary: Belle wanted to find her father. Rapunzel wanted to see the lanterns. Their goals seemed so different. And yet, at heart they were more similar than they could imagine.
1. The Tower

Belle yelled in surprise as Phillipe bolted, causing her to go flying through the air and land unceremoniously on her back. She lay there, winded, trying to catch her breath.

She was about to call for Phillipe when she realised he had turned around and cantered away immediately after throwing her off. She didn't know what had provoked such erratic behavior. She usually wasn't the one to ride him, but he was as friendly to her as to her father. He had always been a well-mannered horse. For him to behave in this manner showed there was something _very_ wrong going on. Her father was in trouble.

She considered going back and finding Phillipe again, but decided against it. If he had reacted so violently just then, he likely wouldn't behave calmer the second time around. She only hoped his frantic arrival at the village indicated to the villagers that there was something wrong.

She then considered going back to ask the villagers for help, but decided against it. There was no time to waste if her father was in danger. And, she admitted to herself, she simply felt too proud and awkward to ask the villagers, none of whom she'd really connected with, for help in finding her father, who she held so dear to her. She could rescue him herself.

At least Phillipe had taken her a good distance before abandoning her. She was currently at a crossroads. One path was bright and sunny, with a clear path winding through the woods. Another was dark and foreboding, with barely any light to lead the way.

Usually in her stories, the hero found adventure when they picked the more dark, dangerous path instead of the safe, clear one. But she wasn't looking for adventure. She was looking for her father.

With that in mind, she advanced down the sunny, inviting path. Her father would've probably been sensible enough to take it. He could be scatterbrained, but surely he'd remember the path to the fair, which likely wasn't the dark, gloomy one nobody could see in.

As she progressed further down the path, she felt more and more uneasy, despite the bright, welcoming sunlight and clear paved path. She was so used to the usual path through the village that an unfamiliar place, even a bright and inviting one, seemed intimidating to her.

She told herself she was an explorer discovering a new land, walking through the path that led to it. Or Little Red Riding Hood walking through the woods, unaware of wolves and danger.

She scolded herself for such childish fantasies. Her father was in real danger, and all she could do was think about the fairytales she'd read?

Still, it did help calm her down. Her imagining came to a halt as she found herself facing a cave that cut the trail off. It was even darker than the other path she'd seen.

Should she proceed? She could imagine her father going in, thinking it was a path to the fair, only to get stuck.

The thought made her shudder. If she proceeded, she'd get stuck to. But she'd find him, maybe, and they could find a way out together.

Imagining this was the cave full of jewels and treasures she'd been seeking in her expeditions, she stepped inside. She almost jumped. It was such a jarring change, being bathed in sunlight, and then obscured in darkness, as if a black cape had been pulled over her.

She finally found her voice after a few steps inside. "Papa?"

_Papa, Papa, Papaa..._

She jumped in surprise upon hearing her voice's soft echo. She had spoken barely above a whisper, and yet the sound had carried through the cave, repeating itself.

She forced herself to speak louder. "Papa?"

This time, the echo was louder and clearer, like a chorus of singers. She was so entranced by it she almost forgot to listen for an answering voice.

Nothing. She could practically hear his voice in her mind, hear him saying "Belle? Is that you?" And then she'd cry out in joy and run blindly through the cave and into his arms, and then they'd both go home and put everything behind them.

Right. Home to the routine, mundane village.

Her footsteps sounded like drums as they pattered through the cave. The only thing competing for their noise, other than her echoes, was her rapidly beating heart. She knew the cave was silent, but it felt anything but.

She gasped audibly as she saw a glimmer of light up ahead. It was small and faded, but she could clearly make it out. She started running, almost tripping over the rocks and managing to regain her balance, as the light became wider and wider.

It felt like a breath of fresh air to run out of the damp, dark cave and into the open again. The sunlight was even brighter than in the woods, and the sweet smells of the outside world were like music to Belle's ears. She felt like an imprisoned woman who'd finally been let out of captivity.

She quickly became aware of the most prominent detail: a tall, rocky tower stained with moss next to a gushing waterfall. It towered over her, gloomy and dismal compared to the bright outdoors. It looked like an illustration from one of her storybooks, like the prisons and towers made to hold princesses.

And they were always rescued by a dashing prince.

Had Papa climbed up there? If so, there must've been a ladder or stairs somewhere. Belle approached the tower until she was close enough to touch it, reaching a hand out and resting it against a mossy stone. She almost pulled it away after feeling how cold and rough it was.

Was there some kind of ritual? Did she have to tap certain stones in a specific order for them to open up? She'd read something like that in one of her books. Or, more likely, there was a ladder or stairs nestled somewhere around.

Belle carefully edged around the tower, keeping her hand on the stones. She didn't know why. It was as if she was afraid the tower would disappear if she let go of it, like her stories always did after she closed the book.

It took her a while to realise she had just mindlessly done three circles around the tower. She couldn't find anything except grey stone after grey stone, and the occasional moss.

There must be someone in there. Belle highly doubted the tower was built for no reason. If that was the case, how did they venture out to get food and supplies? Why did they choose to live in such a remote, if pretty, location? What if the inhabitants were currently away? What if they were unfriendly? Had they captured Papa?

Stowing all these questions in the back of her mind, Belle cupped her hands around her mouth and called, as loudly as she dared. "Hello?"

She waited for a few moments, observing the tower, without getting any reply. Gathering her courage, she called again, much louder.

"Hello? Is anyone up there?"

She jumped as she saw a movement in the window of the tower. Squinting, she could see that it was a girl. She couldn't make out her full features, but she could see that she had long, blonde hair.

Belle heard the girl call something down to her. She couldn't make out what.

"Hello?" she called, this time as loudly as she possibly could. "Who - are - you?"

She felt rather ridiculous, screaming at the girl. It had the opposite effect Belle was expecting, as she quickly disappeared back into the tower, leaving it as empty as it was before.

This was ridiculous. She was wasting time. She had to focus on finding her father.

She considered turning back and forgetting she ever found this tower. But she decided not to. Something about it drew her to it. Besides, she had come so far. She couldn't turn back now.

She couldn't figure out what to do, though. Should she call up again? Should she continue advancing around the tower?

She was still thinking about it when she saw something long and yellow cascade down the tower, stopping next to her. At first she thought it was a rope, but now that it was next to her, she could see that it was hair. Reaching out to touch it, her guess was confirmed.

It must be the hair of the girl in the tower. It was the only feature of her she'd noticed before, but she didn't know it was this long. It had to be almost the length of the tower. Belle was amazed. The longest hair she'd seen only reached the waists of the girls in her village.

For a moment, she just stared at the hair, amazed and confused. Why had the girl let her hair down? What did she expect her to do?

Oh! Of course. She wanted her to climb it.

But how? Belle felt uneasy climbing someone's hair. Would it even support her? If the hair was this long, there had to be something magical about it. Maybe it _was_ made for climbing.

Still, she decided to call up, to make sure she actually intended for her to climb it. "I'm - coming - up!"

She heard a muffled response. She wasn't even sure if it was a yell, and she had to strain her ears to hear it. Still, she took it as an agreement.

She uneasily took a handful of the blonde hair. Trying not to pull on too hard, she placed a foot against the tower. When she tried to place another, it immediately slipped off due to the moss.

She yelped quietly as she felt herself rising off the ground, grabbing tightly onto the hair before loosening her grip. She tried to grab onto the tower, only to feel herself being risen higher. She had no choice but to grab onto the hair. She realised the girl was pulling her up. She forced herself to relax as she continued her ascent, amazed her body weigh was actually being supported.

As Belle reached the window, the hair stopped pulling her up. She found herself face to face with the girl in the tower, who had a frying pan aimed at Belle's face.


	2. The Deal

When Rapunzel heard the call from outside her tower, she assumed it was her mother, and her heart sank. Normally she'd be glad to see her, but after their argument, she was less eager.

Well, it wasn't really an argument. Those things kind of required two people arguing. It was more Mother lecturing and Rapunzel listening. But it was unpleasant enough for Rapunzel to feel bad about it even after her mother left.

When she went over to the tower window, she looked down—and gasped.

It definitely wasn't her mother. She didn't have too clear a view from her tower, but the figure at the bottom was definitely younger, and dressed in different clothes than the red dress and black cape her mother wore.

It was a person from the outside world. The people Mother had warned her about. The people who had haunted her nightmares for so long. And now, they had finally found her.

How had they found her? What did they want from her? What should she do?

The questions ran through her mind. She barely had time to process them when the person called again. Rapunzel could clearly hear this time.

"Who are you?" Rapunzel didn't answer. Instead, she let out a squeak and hurriedly retreated back into her tower, backing away from the window, her heart racing.

To comfort herself, she picked up Pascal from a chair and gently placed him on her shoulder. She always felt more confident when he was there. He frowned curiously at the window, pointing his tail towards it as if silently asking what Rapunzel had seen that shocked her so much.

"It's a person," she explained. "There's a person outside my tower." She paused, trying to process the ridiculousness of those words. Oh, Mother was always outside her tower, but never anyone else.

Her best option was probably to hide in her tower and hope the stranger left. They probably would, anyway, once they realised there was no way for them to climb the tower. Not without her hair, that is. Well, there was a secret staircase, but you had to heave the rocks out of the way to access it. Mother preferred climbing Rapunzel's hair, since it was less tiring. Less tiring for Mother, that is.

But she decided not to. She couldn't just wait for him or her to leave. She told herself it was because she had to confront the stranger, ask them exactly how and why they had found her tower, and scare them into never returning or telling anyone else. Maybe even tie or lock them up until Mother returned, and then leave her to deal with it.

But, deep down, she knew there was another reason. Ever since her mother left, she had been thinking about the floating lights she saw from her tower. She felt guilty for even thinking about them, after her mother had expressly made it clear she could never see them up close. But she couldn't help it. Ever since she was a little girl and snuck out after her mother was asleep to sneak a peek of them, she had always felt like they were saying something to her. Like they were telling her to escape the tower, encouraging her to seek freedom.

She had come up with a plan. She felt guilty for conspiring against her mother, who had done so much to keep her safe, but she told herself it was just an idea. She probably—might—not even actually do it.

Her plan was to request her mother for a set of paints for her birthday present when she returned. Rapunzel knew it was a three day trip to get them. Just enough time to sneak out of the tower and see the lights and then return without her mother even noticing. And then she'd spend the rest of her life in the tower, remembering that joyful moment when she left, never asking to leave again.

But she couldn't do it by herself. She didn't even know where the lights were, or how to get there, or anything about the outside world aside from the frightening stories her mother had told her. She needed a guide, someone to take her. She'd prefer for that person to be her mother, but she had made it clear Rapunzel was never to leave. She knew no one would come, though. No one had in eighteen years. She had felt resigned to the fact that she'd have to leave by herself, as unprepared as she was.

But could she really trust a complete stranger? Someone from the outside world, the people her mother had warned her about?

She had to. She had to leave once, just once, and then she'd be happy to spend the rest of her life in the tower. She couldn't wait for another person to come by her tower. She'd let down her hair, pull the stranger up, and if they turned out to be a murderer or thug, she'd kick them out and leave by herself.

Let down her hair? For someone other than her mother? The thought was shocking. Her mother had always warned her how people wanted to take advantage of her hair, cut it, use it, sell it... The second she'd let it down, they'd probably cut it to use for their greed, only to realise it became brown and useless. Just like the person who had tried cutting her hair when she was a baby.

There was nothing else in the tower long enough. She had checked before. If there was, she'd use it to pull up her mother instead of her hair. Still, she had to take precautions.

She grabbed a frying pan off the stove in her room, the first weapon she could get her hands on. Holding it in one hand and nervously clutching her hair in the other, she approached the window. She swung her hair over the hook at the top, like she had done so many times before, watching it cascade down the tower's edge like it had so many times before.

Looking down, she saw the person stare at it for a moment, not doing anything. She aimed her frying pan towards them in case, trying to figure out the correct angle that'd cause the object to hit them. After a while, they seemed to take the hint and clutched her hair in both hands. They tried placing their feet against the rocky, mossy tower, before slipping. Rapunzel started pulling her hair up, pretending it was her mother coming home with her new paints.

Pascal frowned suspiciously at the person as they came higher and higher, balling his litle green hands into fists. Rapunzel knew he could be as good a threat as the frying pan if he wanted to.

As they came higher, Rapunzel could see that it was a girl. She was trying not to look down, keeping her face buried in Rapunzel's hair. Rapunzel stopped pulling as the girl reached the window, the frying pan still aimed at her.

"Don't move." She tried to make her voice as intimidating as possible. Pascal glared at the stranger like her tiny bodyguard.

The girl peeked her head out from Rapunzel's thick hair. She had a clear view of her face. Rapunzel had never seen a person other than herself and her mother. She looked so different from both of them, with her wavy brown hair and big brown eyes. Rapunzel had to admit she was really pretty. Beautiful, more like it, with rosy cheeks and full lips.

"I–I'm sorry," she managed to say. "I—"

"Well, actually, do move," added Rapunzel. "I mean, you can't just be hanging out there. So, yeah, come in." Trying to make her voice intimidating again, she added, "But don't try anything weird."

She tentatively lowered her feet onto the windowsill and stepped down into the tower. Her mouth dropped open as she gazed behind Rapunzel. It didn't take long for her to realise she was staring at her hair.

Rapunzel aimed the frying pan at her face again. "What do you want with my hair?" She tried to keep her voice firm and clear, but couldn't stop the frightened edge that crept into it.

"What? Nothing. I'm sorry," she apologised. "It's just, I've never seen hair that long before."

"Hmm." Rapunzel didn't know whether to believe her. She had to interrogate her, see if she was one of the criminals or thugs her mother had warned her about. Actually, Mother had always said those people were men. She warned her of men or people in general, never women. But that didn't mean this girl couldn't be dangerous, right?

"How did you find me?"

"Look, I don't want to bother you," she replied. "I just came here to look for my father. Uh, he's not here, is he?"

Father? The word sounded familiar to Rapunzel.

Oh, right. Her mother had told her that her father had left them when Rapunzel was very young, which was why she had no memory of him. She didn't like talking about him much. Rapunzel understood. It must've brought up bad memories for her mother. She had said he was one of those wicked men like the ones in the outside world.

When Rapunzel didn't answer immediately, the girl spoke up again. "He's short, shorter than me. He—"

"No. I don't think he's here," Rapunzel interrupted. "The only people are me and my mother." She paused, wondering if it was the right move to tell the stranger that.

She felt Pascal nudge her neck. "And Pascal," she added.

The girl stared at him, seeming to just have noticed him. Pascal suddenly changed color to match Rapunzel's purple dress, lying down on her shoulder.

"He's a chameleon," she noted. "Does he always change color like that?"

Rapunzel chose not to answer her question. "That doesn't matter. Anyway..." She paused, trying to think of her next question. Oh, right. The one she should've asked first. "Who are you?"

The girl hesitated. "I'm Belle," she replied.

Belle. It was a nice, clear name. Rapunzel liked it more than her own long, harsh-sounding one. "So, Belle..."

"Look, I'm sorry for bothering you," Belle interrupted. "I just wanted to find my father, but it's clear he's not here. I'll just be going now." She turned around and peeked out of the window. "Uh, how do I get down?"

"You can't," replied Rapunzel. "Not without my help."

"But I have to find my father!" Belle turned around, a pleading look on her face. "Please, can you help me?"

Was she lying? Had she made up a story about her lost father in order to play on Rapunzel's sympathies? Mother had warned her how cunning and manipulative people could be. It would be just like one of them to make up a story like that.

But, on the other hand... what if she wasn't? What if she really did have a father who she loved dearly and was looking for? If Rapunzel refused to help her, she'd be just as bad as the people her mother warned her about. She didn't know what she'd do if her mother went missing. She may be overbearing, but she was her only company in the tower. Aside from Pascal, of course.

Plus, Belle didn't seem that bad to her. She hadn't tried to hurt or threaten her so far, and just seemed like she wanted to leave Rapunzel alone and find her father.

"Maybe," replied Rapunzel slowly, feeling a plan formulate in her head. "But only if you help me."

"How can I help you?" Belle cried. "I don't even know who you are."

Rapunzel paused. "I'm... Rapunzel."

"Rapunzel," Belle repeated, "How do you expect me to help you?"

Rapunzel turned around, walking towards the wall with her most prized painting. She used her free hand to pull open the curtain to expose it. Turning back to the girl, she pointed upwards to the lights she had painted. "Do you know what those are?"

Belle paused for a moment. "Wait... yes, I think I do. They're lanterns. I see a few of them from my village sometimes."

"Lanterns! I knew they weren't stars!" Rapunzel was happy to finally have a name for them. It felt weird calling them the floating lights all the time.

She straightened up, trying to look at Belle sternly. "You will take me to see the lights—I mean, lanterns."

"But I don't know where they are," she protested.

"But you said you could see them," noted Rapunzel.

"From my village, yes. But they're not lit there," explained Belle. "They're lit in a town nearby. A few of them come over to my village once a year."

Rapunzel felt like crying. She had finally found someone she could use as a guide, and she couldn't even take her to the lanterns.

But she couldn't make her leave. She might not know how to get there, but she did know about the outside world. She could still take her, and they'd figure out how to get there together.

"Very well," Rapunzel replied, trying to mask her disappointment. "You will take me outside, and we'll try to find out where I can see the lanterns up close." Even if she didn't find them, just going outside would be exhilarating enough. "Along the way, we'll look for your father."

Belle was silent for a few moments, contemplating the deal. "Alright. I'll do it. As long as you help me find my father. But I have a question."

Rapunzel nodded. She had been interrogating Belle so much, it felt fair to let her ask something.

"Why can't you go by yourself?"

Rapunzel cringed. She had been waiting for the question. "My mother's very..." She paused, trying to think of the right word. "...overprotective. She wouldn't let me leave by herself. Or even with her."

"Where is she now?"

"She's getting food," explained Rapunzel. "She'll probably be back soon."

"Then when can we leave?"

"After she leaves again. I've planned what to tell her. Don't worry, I won't tell her about you." If she did, she'd ruin her one chance for freedom. "You'll have to hide somewhere, though."

Rapunzel scanned her room, her eyes falling on the closet that was usually empty. "There. It'll fit you."

Just after she said it, she heard the familiar call from outside her tower. "Rapunzel! Let down your hair!"

"Quick!" Rapunzel ran over to the closet and opened the door, signalling frantically for Belle to enter. She walked inside, and Rapunzel quickly shut the door.

"Rapunzel?"

"Coming, Mother!"


	3. At the Castle

The beast had considered letting him go.

It would've probably been the better decision, anyway. This old man was certainly going to be of no threat to him. He'd let him go his own way, back to his home and loved ones, and the beast would return to living in isolation, remaining a beast forever when the last petal fell.

He'd never admit it, but part of the reason he imprisoned the old man was out of the faint, slight hope that he had a daughter or younger sister who would go looking for him, and she'd be the one to break the curse. The thought was laughable at best. Even if he did have a young female loved one, even if she did find the castle, there was no chance of him falling in love with the beast. He just wasn't lovable. He had known that ever since he was a young child.

After his sister was born, she had been the joy of his parents' life. They were completely entranced by her, spending every waking moment with her, as if nothing else mattered to them. As a young child, the beast didn't understand why. She was the reason his mother had fallen sick. She had barely managed to recover and continue with her pregnancy. Surely his parents wouldn't look at her with such love and tenderness after the sickness she caused her mother. Or at least, not more than they how they looked at him.

When the baby went missing one day, the beast had felt nothing but satisfaction. He thought that now, his parents would forget about her and spend more time with him. Instead, the opposite happened.

His parents were devastated. They could barely perform their royal duties anymore. They spent all their time in their chambers, grieving the loss of their daughter and hoping she'd return. They didn't think twice about their son, who they left for the servants to take care of in their grief.

As an adult, he'd easily dismiss such feelings as childish jealousy. He'd been a young child back then, and such feelings were common for petty children. But that wasn't all.

It was when his parents were away visiting other royals that the enchantress had come to the castle. His parents had returned tomorrow, and were horrified to see the effects of the curse, and even more horrified after their son had explained what had happened. Unable to deal with the shock and distress, they had abandoned the castle and their son, moving to a new one close by.

Ever since then, the beast had realised the enchantress was right. Even his own parents couldn't love him as a beast, so how could a stranger?

He didn't know why he kept the old man around. He told himself it was because if he let him leave, he'd tell everyone where he was from and send a mob after him. He knew the reason was flimsy at best, as the old man was no doubt too terrified of him to do anything but run away once given freedom, but it was what he told himself.

He had transferred the man to a nicer room, one of the nicest in the castle, firmly letting him know he could go anywhere except the West Wing. His servants had been pestering him ever since. He tried to ignore their tentatively phrased comments and suggestions. He didn't always succeed, though.

"He told me he has a daughter," he heard Mrs. Potts say. "The poor thing must be worried sick about him."

The beast froze. A daughter?

No. He had to let him go. He wasn't so cold and cruel to keep a father away from his child. What if she was a little girl, a child who needed her parents? It was improbable, considering how old the man was, but she might still need to be taken care of.

And to think he had been selfish enough to hope she might find him and break the curse.

He made his way to the old man—Maurice's—room, only to find it as empty as it was before, as all the other rooms in the castle were. He asked the wardrobe what had happened, though he really didn't need to. It was obvious he had jumped at the first opportunity to escape as soon as the beast wasn't looking, no doubt searching for his daughter.

Surely this was a good thing. The beast didn't even need to go to the trouble of telling him he was free. He ignored the wardrobe's stammered explanation and excuses about trying to stop him, making his way to the heavy front doors of the castle. They were open, letting cold winter air into the castle. Maurice must not have bothered to close it in his rush to escape.

The beast stood there for a moment, feeling the coldness chill his fur. He stepped closer to the door, feeling compelled to leave.

Maurice couldn't make it back home out there. There were wolves and snakes in the woods, vicious animals who would have no trouble ripping an old man to shreds.

Without pausing to think twice, the beast plundered outside, his clawed feet pounding against the snowy ground as he ran. It had been so long since he had stepped outside the castle, even just into the courtyard, that the woods seemed strange and unfamiliar to him.

He finally saw him in the distance, surrounded by a pack of wolves and large, broken pieces of wood that lay on the snow. They were approaching him, slowly becoming closer, as the man shivered and cowered in fright. With a roar, the beast threw himself at the animals, trying to summon all his beastly strength and anger. He tried to fight through the pain as the wolves' claws and teeth dug into his fur, fighting them off him with a roar.

Soon the adrenaline wore off, and he couldn't fight them off as they leapt onto him, sinking their sharp teeth and powerful claws into his fur. He went limp, slumping onto the snowy ground, the sharp, burning pain overwhelming the coldness of the snow.

**Don't worry, Beast and Maurice won't fall in love. After all, Maurice is old enough to be his father...**


	4. Conflicted

Belle watched Rapunzel with a combination of amusement and annoyance. The girl was taking in the outdoors with both overflowing joy and wracking guilt. One moment she was running through the grassy meadow and squealing with excitement—Belle wondered idly how none of the debris on the ground got stuck in her incredibly long hair—and the next she was sobbing in the cave, despairing about how she was betraying her mother.

Belle was still shocked she had agreed to ride down the girl's long hair, grasping it in her hands and screaming at first as she felt herself slide down. Rapunzel had told her that while there was another way of getting down, she didn't know exactly how it worked, so this was Belle's only option. Rapunzel went next, squealing as she went down and hesitating for a long moment before lowering her feet to the grass. After that, she had been nonstop emotions and energy.

Belle walked up to Rapunzel, who was currently in one of her guilty moods, crying into her hands next to a mossy boulder. She placed an awkward hand on her trembling shoulder, desperate to comfort her somehow. "Your mother's going away for three days, right? We'll return in time, and she won't even notice."

Belle couldn't believe the way she had heard Rapunzel's mother talk to her while stuck inside the closet. Rapunzel had meekly asked if she could leave her tower, as if she had already asked before and gotten the same answer. Her mother had made it expressly clear she was never to leave, as well as insinuating that she wasn't capable enough to do so. Belle could never imagine her father screaming at her the way Rapunzel's mother had.

Rapunzel turned her tear-stained face to Belle. "I don't know why I even asked her again. I should've known she'd say no. I guess I just thought..." She trailed off.

"I'm guessing the answer was no the first time." Belle mentally kicked herself for stating the obvious.

"She told me it was for the better that I stayed in the tower." Rapunzel wiped the back of her hand across her face. "She said the outside world was too dangerous for me. That there was no way I could handle it."

"You've never been outside before?" Belle had assumed she had just never been past the area outside her tower, but from her behavior, it seemed this was indeed her first time venturing outdoors.

"No. Never."

"Wow... that's..." Belle had always felt trapped and restrained in her village, but she had at least been able to go outside her house, talk to people even if they didn't connect much, visit the bookstore even if there was never anything new. If she had to spend all her time inside her house with her father, she really would've lost it.

"Maybe I should just go back to my tower." Rapunzel started to ramble. "I mean, I've already gone outside. That should be enough, right? I can just go back up now, and Mother wouldn't even notice." Her voice grew more panicked. "Who knows what's out there? There could be thugs and poison ivy and ruffians and—"

Belle cut her rambling off. "Is that what your mother told you?"

"Yes." She looked more distressed at the mention of her mother. "I shouldn't have left her. She tried her hardest to protect me, and this is how I repay her? Oh, I'm a horrible daughter!" She started sobbing again, burying her face into her hands.

"Hey, hey... calm down," Belle said awkwardly. She had never been good at talking to people, let alone comforting them. She usually kept her nose buried in a book and didn't offer more than a standard greeting to the villagers. "You know, I often wanted to leave my village, but I couldn't. I didn't want to leave my father."

"But there were other people in your village, right?"

"Well, yes."

"Didn't you have friends you could talk to?"

"Not really," admitted Belle. "We just didn't really connect. The only person I could really talk to was my father." Mentioning him reminded Belle why she had agreed to this deal in the first place. "We really should get going. I want to find my father as much as you want to see the lanterns."

Rapunzel reluctantly stood up. "But where would we go?"

"I'm not sure," admitted Belle. "I guess we'll just have to see for ourselves." This kind of thing was exciting to her. She was so used to the familiar, small village she saw every day, with the same straight path. Something new and unfamiliar, that she hadn't explored before, seemed like a welcome change.

"You're right," Rapunzel said suddenly. "I have to see those lanterns." She started walking suddenly, towards the grassy path leading who knew where.

Confused by yet another abrupt mood swing, but relieved she had finally decided on something, Belle followed her, hoping she wouldn't change her mind again.


	5. Childishness

"Hold still." Maurice carefully dabbed at the monster's wounded fur with the rag, the way he had done to Belle when she was little and scraped her knee.

The monster roared, swinging his furred arm away from Maurice's touch, as gentle as he was trying to be. "That hurts!"

The furniture all cowered in fright. Instead of being intimidated by his roaring as he expected, Maurice instead felt amused. He sounded more like a petulant child at the doctor's than a terrifying, bloodthirsty beast.

"If you held still, perhaps—" He tried to phrase it as a meek suggestion, not wanting to anger the monster more.

"If you hadn't ran away, this wouldn't have happened!" he growled back without waiting for Maurice to finish.

He really did sound like a petulant child. "Well, if you hadn't taken me prisoner, I wouldn't have ran away." Maurice surprised himself with the boldness of his words.

"Well, you shouldn't have intruded the castle!" The monster grinned widely, showing his vicious teeth, but instead of feeling frightened, Maurice felt amused again. He looked like a child confident that he'd won an argument with an adult.

"So you decided to make me stay?" Maurice gently pressed the rag against his wound again, provoking a pained growl. "If you didn't want me here, you could've let me go."

The furniture of the castle cowered in fear again, obviously expecting a reaction from their master. Maurice tensed, fearing he'd gone too far, but the monster simply opened his mouth and then closed it, looking at a loss for words.

When he didn't reply, Maurice spoke up again. "You know, the wolves tore apart my invention." He dabbed at the wound again, provoking a restrained grunt. "It was a silly thing, really. It probably wouldn't even work. But still, I miss it. I worked so hard on it, and now..." He paused, the usual disappointment he felt when his inventions failed or the townspeople called him crazy for working on them welling up.

Again, the monster didn't reply as Maurice continued tending to his wound. "I suppose it was rather foolish of me to run off like that," Maurice admitted. "The wolves would've easily gotten me if it weren't for you." He paused, realising the truthfulness of those words. "Thank you for saving me."

The monster looked shocked by this admission, and then conflicted. Finally, he managed to settle on a reply. "You're welcome."


	6. Dreams

"The Snuggly Duckling." Belle read the writing on the hanging sign out loud. "Sounds like a friendly place."

"I'm not sure," replied Rapunzel, clutching the frying pan she had taken tighter. "What if there are other people in there?"

"There probably are," replied Belle. "Unless the people staying there are currently out. Do you think my father could be in there?"

A look of determination crossed Rapunzel's face. People or not, she had to achieve her dream. Besides, the building did look rather harmless, bright and slightly crooked.

"Alright, let's go." She tried to make her voice firm, but was unable to stop the note of anxiety that crept into it. On her shoulder, Pascal imitated her expression and balled his little green hands into fists.

She walked down the path and up to the door, but was unable to bring herself to open it. Belle walked up next to her and opened it herself. On looking inside, Rapunzel nearly bolted.

Inside were the men her mother had warned her about. The criminals and ruffians and thugs. They were large and menacing, fixing her with suspicious glares, dressed in crude, dirty clothing, some scarred, some missing limbs, one with a hook for a hand, and one surrounded by rats. They were by far the most vicious men she had seen in her life. Well, not that that was a contest, since she hadn't met any other men. But even if she did, these men would still be the worst.

Belle had already stepped inside, looking as horrified as Rapunzel, as well as disgusted. Working up all her courage, Rapunzel started to step in too, but was stopped by one of the men's growling voice.

"And what are you doing here?"

She squeaked in response, squealing in fright as she felt a shorter man with acne running his fingers through her hair. She yanked her hair back, only for his fingers to continue sifting through. Rapunzel backed away, squeaking as she bumped into someone. She turned around to see the man with a hook for a hand glaring at her as he towered over her, though his expression quickly turned to awe.

"That's a lot of hair. You grow it out?" He had a gruff, but curious-sounding voice.

"I can't cut it," informed Rapunzel, trying to bundle it all into her arms.

"Excuse me." She heard Belle's voice, impressed by how steady and authoritarian it sounded. "Have any of you seen my father?"

"Your father?" one of the shorter men asked in a high-pitched voice.

"Yes. He's short, has a mustache, rather round—"

"Like this fellow?" One of the larger men pushed one of the smaller, portlier ones to the front.

"Oi! I think I'd remember having a daughter." He had an accent Rapunzel didn't recognise.

"I think we'd better be leaving." Rapunzel heard the disappointment in Belle's voice. "He's probably not here. I'm sorry for bothering you all."

Rapunzel was taken by surprise as one of the men offered her a white flower. "Fancy it, miss?"

"Uh, thanks," she replied, accepting it. On impulse, she tucked it behind her ear.

Another one of the men, the one with the hook hand, laughed heartily. "Keep dreaming, Big Nose. You have as much chance of wooing a girl as I have of becoming a pianist."

Big Nose flushed. Rapunzel wondered if that was his real name or a nickname. "Well, at least my chance is higher."

"Oh, really?" another man sneered.

Big Nose ignored him, turning to Rapunzel again. "What brings you here, miss?"

Rapunzel hesitated. Should she tell him? He was probably trying to seduce her, the way Mother had warned her men would do. She'd be falling for his tricks.

But what was the harm in telling him what she wanted to do? "I wanted to see the ligh—lanterns." She hastily corrected herself. "The lanterns I see from my home. I wanted to see them up close. It's been my dream ever since I could remember." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Belle return through the door, probably wondering why she hadn't followed her.

"Your dream?" The hook-handed man spoke up suddenly, his voice becoming less gruff and more nostalgic. "I had a dream, once."

Rapunzel jumped as he threw the axe he was carrying past her and above the head of a scrawny man, who quickly started playing his accordion. She listened with curiosity and genuine interest as he sang about his lifelong dream of being a pianist.

"I'm malicious, mean, and scary." That was how she had viewed him at first. But as he continued singing, she realised he wasn't too different from her, past his gruff appearance. He had longed to play piano on the stage for as long as she had to see the lanterns.

Soon all the men joined in, including the one who had offered her a flower. He sang about wanting to find love, but being restrained from doing so because of his looks. Others had even more harmless goals, one of them wanting to start a cupcake business and another being a talented mimer. Rapunzel wondered why she'd ever found them threatening.

When it was her turn to sing, she sang freely, from her heart. She knew exactly what her dream was. The nervousness she felt about singing in front of so many people was quickly overpowered by the thought of her dream.

"I just wanna see the floating lanterns... gleam." She substituted the word at the last second to make it rhyme. She added honestly, "And with every passing hour, I'm so glad I left my tower". And she was. The exhilaration of the outdoors and meeting new people outweighed her initial guilt and fear. She didn't know why she hadn't tried leaving before. This was more exciting than any painting or hide and seek match with Pascal.


	7. Missing Persons

"Excuse me, sir." Gaston paused as a woman walked up to him. She was too old for him, he noted with disappointment. And not much of a sight either, with her curly dark hair and large nose.

"Are you going to that place?" He was pulled out of his thoughts by her voice. She gestured to a shack down the path. Gaston could vaguely hear sounds of people inside, and, squinting, see the words The Snuggly Duckling on the sign. It seemed a lot like the tavern he frequented.

"I might," he replied. "It seems like a good sort of place for a party, doesn't it?" In truth, his real mission was finding Belle, but it wouldn't hurt to stop for a minute. And who knows, she might have been inside.

He had suggested all the villagers separate to find her after she hadn't returned to the village. Her father hadn't, either, but Gaston wasn't too concerned about him. In fact, he wasn't even too concerned about Belle, after her humiliating refusal. He wondered why he had ever been into her.

Still, he had a reputation to uphold, and he wasn't one to let a young lady perish. So he had called a search party made of a decent portion of the villagers and insisted they split up to find her. He hadn't even let LeFou tag along with him, annoyed by his constant chattering and fawning. Gaston hoped he found her first. Maybe he'd rescue her from danger, and she'd be so grateful to him she'd reconsider her rejection of marriage. Either way, he'd be hailed as a hero. Well, more than he already was.

"I suppose so." The woman's eyes narrowed menacingly at the place, betraying her words. Then she turned back to him, a clearly forced smile on her face. "Listen, I have a favor to ask of you. If that'd be okay with you, sir?"

Gaston hesitated. He really didn't have time to dawdle. For a party and a drink, maybe, but not for an old woman's errands. Still, he supposed he should at least ask about it in case there was some kind of reward.

"What kind of favor?"

"You see, I'm trying to find my daughter," she explained, looking distressed at the thought of her. "She's run away, you see." Gaston was alarmed to see tears well up in her eyes. "Sorry, sorry," she apologised as she wiped them away, sniffing. "I was ever so distressed when I found out she wasn't home. I couldn't stop imagining the worst things had happened to her. And now, I can't even find her."

Gaston pitied her. Losing a child must be one of the worst things to happen to someone. Maybe not quite as bad as being publicly rejected and humiliated after setting up a whole wedding for the girl you love, but close.

He swung a strong arm around her shoulders, and she didn't react. Gaston supposed she was too caught up in her grief. "Don't worry, madam. You'll find her." He paused. "You know, it's funny. I'm looking for someone too."

She looked up at him, her despondent expression replaced with a curious one. "Oh? Who's that?"

"My... fiancé," he lied. Well, she would've been, if she had just said yes. "She didn't return home, so I arranged a search party to look for her."

"That's very noble of you," she complimented. "If only I had a search party." She looked despondent again. "Where is everyone else, if you don't mind me asking?"

"We split up," replied Gaston. "I thought it'd be easier to find her that way." That, and he didn't want to share his victory when he found her with anyone.

The woman ducked and removed herself from under his arm. "Well, we seem to have something in common," she said. "What's your name?"

"Gaston."

"Why don't we help each other look for our missing person?" she suggested. Gaston noticed she hadn't said her own name.

Gaston considered the offer. This old woman wouldn't take any credit if he found Belle. She only seemed to care for her daughter. She wasn't even part of the village, or at least, Gaston didn't think so. And they did have something in common.

"Very well," he replied. "What does your daughter look like?"


	8. Still Missing

Rapunzel eeped in surprise as Belle grabbed her hand, pulling her under the table. She had heard the door to the pub being opened with such force that it could have been a great animal, before catching a glimpse of a man in red entering. The entire pub turned their attention to him, the same way they had done to Rapunzel and Belle when they entered.

Rapunzel felt her cheeks heat up as she felt Belle's body so close to hers. She had always kept a careful distance from her before, not wanting to be too close to someone from the outside world. She wasn't sure if Belle noticed. She seemed panicked right now, fiddling with a lock of her brown hair with both hands the way Rapunzel often did with her own hair.

She wanted to ask what was wrong, but decided not to. Belle seemed to want to hide from the others. She heard the pubs questioning the man, and the man explaining he was looking for a girl—well, two girls, he quickly amended.

Rapunzel felt her heartbeat quicken. She had never seen that man before in her life. She had never seen any men before in her life, aside from the pub men she had just met. Maybe he knew Belle, but was he after her? Maybe he meant a different girl.

Belle probably knew him, judging from the way she paled and tensed when he mentioned a girl. Was he her father?

No. She had immediately hid from this man when he entered, and she was trying to look for her father. If he had come in, she probably would've been ecstatic to find him.

"First and foremost, I have to find my wife," the man said in reply to the questions the other men assaulted him with.

So Belle was married? Rapunzel looked at her, and she seemed less frightened now and more annoyed, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, she's a beautiful thing. Gorgeous as a young buck in spring. Any of you would be jealous if you saw her. The most lovely brown hair, doe eyes, fair complexion..."

He went on and on, not missing any part of her beauty. Rapunzel looked at Belle again, and she seemed even more annoyed, crossing her arms with exasperation. Then she looked frightened, probably realising the men would recognise that description.

"Hey." Rapunzel jumped as a man—Big Nose—spoke lowly to Belle. "You want a way outta here?"

"Yes, please! I know that man, and..." Belle winced. "Can you help us?"

"Here." With a strong pull by his hefty arm, he lifted a lever from one of the three sticking up in front of them, the one with the duckling figure, exposing a hidden area leading downwards. "Quick, before he sees."

"Thank you, sir!" Without hesitation, Belle crawled out from the table and down the passage, crouching low as if afraid someone would see her. She paused for a moment and turned to Rapunzel, looking at her imploringly.

"Uh..." Rapunzel didn't know whether she should go down this passage. She had no idea where it led, and she still didn't know why Belle wanted to escape from that man.

Belle continued to look at Rapunzel, a pleading, desperate look in her eyes. Confused, Rapunzel hesitantly retreated from under the table and followed her. Looking relief, Belle turned and continued down.

"Hey." Rapunzel paused at Big Nose's voice. She turned to him, seeing his earnest expression. "Go live your dream."

"Thank you." He was rather sweet, once you got past his threatening demeanor. "You too."

* * *

"What was that all about?" Rapunzel voiced her thoughts once they were both wandering through the dark passage. It looked as if they were surrounded by rocks of some kind.

Belle sighed, brushing a strand of hair off her face. "You see, that man... well, I don't exactly like him. His name is Gaston."

"Why don't you like him?"

"You see..." She paused, fiddling with her hair again. "He was very popular in my village. He was considered the most handsome man in town, and the bravest, and the strongest. And he considered himself to be, too. He never let me—or anyone, for that matter—forget how great he was."

"That does sound annoying." Rapunzel wondered why he would call Belle his wife when it was clear she didn't like him.

"Tell me about it." Belle groaned. "And not only that, but he considered me the most beautiful woman the village. He wanted me to marry him." She paused, seeming angry.

"Did you?" Rapunzel almost regretted the question when Belle's eyes flashed with sudden anger and she curled her hands into fists.

"No! I said no." Rapunzel almost cowered at how angry she seemed. "You know, he actually set up the wedding _before_ asking me. He had cake and flowers and everything. As if he thought there was no possible chance I would say no to him. Can you _believe_ that?"

Rapunzel didn't answer, almost frightened. She hadn't expected Belle to explode like that. She noticed that Pascal on her shoulder seemed afraid as well, his little hands over his eyes.

"Well, I did say no." She seemed to calm down a little, unclenching her hands. "He could've chosen any girl in the village. Any girl who'd happily go along with being his perfect little wife, and rubbing his feet, and bearing his sons, like he expected me to." She flared up again. "And then he _still_ has the nerve to call me his wife? After I said no?"

"Um..." Rapunzel's voice seemed to distract Belle from her anger.

"Sorry." She looked guilty for flaring up like that. "I shouldn't get so angry. I just can't help it. Every time I think about him... he just makes me so... so..." She took a deep breath.

She seemed to notice Pascal, who was now trying to blend in with Rapunzel's dress. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare your chameleon."

"Oh... he gets scared a lot. Don't you, Pascal?" She reached a hand up and gently petted his back. He relaxed at her touch, turning green again.

They continued walking in silence for a while. Belle looked embarrassed by her outburst.

"You know, that was quite impressive." Belle spoke up. "What you did with those pub men."

"Huh? Oh, thanks, I guess..." Rapunzel supposed it was. She had never interacted with men before, but they didn't seem that bad, once you looked past their menacing aura.

"I mean it. I was so scared by them when I saw them, but you talked to them for a little while and they all loved you." Belle sighed, pushing another strand of hair out of her face. "I wish I could do that."

Did they love her? Rapunzel didn't think so. Love was something intense and personal. That was what her mother always told her. You couldn't love someone just by spending a few minutes with them and singing a song with them. And no one from the outside world could love someone as flawed as her. Only her mother could do that.

Eventually, their path gave away to a wide chasm with a cliff on the other end. Turning around, Rapunzel saw that they had emerged from a cave.

Walking to the edge of the cliff they were standing on, Rapunzel looked down—and her stomach jolted. The ground looked so far away, showing how high up they were. She immediately stepped away, not wanting to fall.

Belle walked to the edge herself and peered down. For a moment, she remained silent, not moving.

"Belle?" Rapunzel spoke up when she didn't say anything. She wondered where they would go from here.

"Beautiful view, isn't it?" She sounded mesmerised.

"I guess." Rapunzel hadn't taken a good look, too afraid of how high up she was. "But where should we go?"

Belle finally stepped away, a frown crossing her face as she turned around. "I don't know... wait." She turned around and walked toward the edge again. "There's a ladder here."

Rapunzel's stomach dropped as Belle leaned down, sitting on her knees on the very edge of the cliff. "Should we climb down?"

"Uh..." Rapunzel walked a little closer, just enough to see the bottom. Her heart jolted again. The rocky ground didn't seem at all beautiful to her. Then again, maybe that was because she was just scared by how high up they were.

"I don't think so," she said. "It'd just send us down to who knows where."

"Yes, you're right. It's probably too risky, anyway." Belle stood up, looking at the other cliff on the opposite end of the gap. "If only we could get there..."

An idea came to Rapunzel's head. It was a wild, crazy one, and the very thought made her stomach plummet. She had used her hair as several things while up in her tower—a rope, a lasso, a ladder, and, when she was younger, an easel (that had been an absolute disaster)—but that had been in her tower, where it always lay spread out everywhere, but confined in her room.

She gripped her hair, the way she always did when she was nervous or unsure. It was a source of comfort and security for her. And now, it was about to be a source of help...


	9. The Inventor

"This is amazing!" The beast watched as the old man fiddled with his newest invention, banging the hammer against the corks. The beast had no idea what it was supposed to be. It looked like a misshapen wooden table to him. "I've never used such good equipment before."

"Well, they are from the castle." The beast couldn't prevent the irritation that crept into his voice. "Naturally they'd be in top quality."

"Oh, of course." The man hurried to apologise. "Thank you. This will be even better than my previous invention. Thanks to your generosity."

The beast still didn't know why he had decided to be so generous. He had remembered the old man mentioning he was an inventor, and thought this room in the castle, tucked away and only known by the royal family and a select few servants, would appeal to him. He had practically started squealing when the beast had presented it to him, talking about all the new bits and pieces he could use for his inventions. It was to give him something to do, the beast had decided.

He also didn't know why Maurice had even decided to stay. Yes, he had saved the man's life, but surely he'd want to escape his imprisonment as soon as possible. He was probably just afraid of being attacked by wolves again.

He watched him continue to fiddle with whatever he was working on, constantly moving around to inspect it from all sides. The beast had never had the patience for such things. He was much better at destroying things than making them, even when he was a human.

He winced as the man accidentally hit his thumb with the hammer instead of the machine, letting out a howl of pain. He shook his thumb frantically and pressed it against his clothes, but in a matter of seconds, he picked up the hammer again and continued his work. The beast was a little impressed. He was very dedicated.

"Have you used this room before?" he asked casually as he continued hammering, as if he had never injured himself.

Was he trying to make small talk? "No, not much." Not at all. "I was never into inventing things." He was tempted to tell the man to mind his own business.

"It's difficult, but also quite fun. My daughter sometimes helped me..." He trailed off at the mention of his daughter, his voice becoming forlorn.

Something settled in the pit of the beast's stomach. Something like guilt. Without a word, he exited the room, leaving Maurice to his inventions.


End file.
